You Killed My Parents, Prepare to Die
by Withthisdagger
Summary: In a night she would never forget, Bella's parents were brutally murdered by a mysterious man with green eyes. The man made a promise that he would return for her. Now forced to hide with a different identity, she tries to understand why her parents were murdered. The man has returned haunts her every steps. Will she avenge her parents or become the very person she hates? DarkEd
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! This is You Killed My Parents Prepare to Die a rewrite! Some of you might recognize this story, and also might have noticed that it was deleted. I was so frustrated with the other one and I doubted myself and in a spurt of anger, I deleted all my stories. Dangit. But I hope you like the new version! I like it a lot better.**

**I own nothing but my laptop and mind.**

**You killed My Parents Prepare to Die**

**Chapter 1: Love Sometimes Kills**

"It's only in love and in murder that we still remain sincere"

**FRIEDRICH DÜRRENMATT, _Incident at Twiligh__t_**

The church stood proud and tall as rain fell from grey clouds, a sort of foreshadowing for what was to come. Outside was quiet except for a few cars that passed by. There was a homeless man that lived on the bench in front. His dog slept on the ground under the bench and the man slept on top. The rain did not touch him or his companion because the churches roof stretched out and protected them. Neither noticed a stranger enter through the doors.

The stranger was tall, and his dark hair was plastered to his forehead. The suit he was wearing was made by the finest company. And his piercing green eyes seemed to see through the darkness. He did not see the tall crosses or the beautiful art, he was focused on something else entirely. The strangers footsteps echoed, the only sound. It would appear he was alone, but he wasn't. There was a Priest.

Father Woods had an exceptionally good day. It was Monday so the day wasn't busy. They had a service for those who could not attend Sunday, and then he gardened. He could still feel the fresh air on his skin. And the birds chirping filled his thoughts. God's love was evident and that made the Priest very happy. He knew God was protecting him and this beautiful church. It wasn't late, about eight o'clock, and he felt as if he needed to stay in his confessional box for a little bit longer. Some time around eight-fifteen, he fell asleep. He was awakened suddenly by a deep resounding voice:

"Forgive me father, for I have sinned."

Father Woods quickly gave his greeting by making the sign of the cross. It was also for his stuttering heart for the man had given him quite the fright. He saw that the man too made the same greeting and once again felt calm.

"How long has it been since your last Confession, my son?"

The Priest heard the man chuckle.

"I never usually feel guilty for what I am about to do."

The Priest raised a brow in question.

"You are confessing for a sin you are going to do?"

"Is that wrong?"

The Priest was rather perplexed, never before did someone come to confess for something that he was going to do. He was almost scared to ask what the deed was.

"May I ask, what is tempting you?"

The Priest could hear breathing on the other side of the thin screen. He saw the man's hand quickly go through his hair. And when the man answered, Father Woods felt a horrible chill run through his body.

"Murder, father, that is what tempts me."

Father Woods cursed himself for not bringing his cellar device with him to the booth. Ever since Father Brown had a heart attack by himself, every priest was entitled to have one. The man continued.

"Haven't you ever been tempted, father?"

The Priest gulped and he felt as if it echoed.

"No, my son. I have never been tempted to take a persons life."

"What about lust? You are a man and human after all."

The Priest was confused where this conversation was going. He was hoping that someone out there was playing some sort of prank on him. Teenagers would always come in and say the most ridiculous things. But this man was not a teenager and he was a stranger. Not much strangers came to talk to Father Woods.

"When I was younger, but no longer. I forsook that part of me long ago."

The man leaned back a little in his chair, he was twirling something in his hands. The priest could not make out its shape. The Priest felt compelled to continue,

"First John chapter two verse sixteen says-"

"For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world."

The Priest was shocked into silence. The man once again chuckled.

"The Bible is a very compelling source of literature, father. Murder, greed, hate, and anger is what it is composed of. All the things it says we should not feel, but how can we not feel those things when the very God of the Bible does all of the above?"

"The Bible is also full of love! God is love! He is-"

Once again the man interrupted, this time his voice was not composed but full of anger.

"He is love! He suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not his own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things."

The Priest whispered softly,

"First Corinthians thirteen."

And it was quiet for a long time.

"And He asks us, quite vane, to love Him and keep His commandments. But what if I do not love Him, father? Should I keep His commandments?"

The Priest saw that the man was looking quite intensively at the object in his hand.

"I am going to kill you, father."

The Priest felt cold sweat go down his spine and his forehead. He could no longer feel the sun or hear the birds chirp. He felt nothing but fear.

"Do you feel His love now, father?"

And the homeless man was awoken by a gun shot and the frantic barking of his dog.

**Earlier in the Day-**

As I lay on my bed, I can hear creaking noises all over. I just know that there is a monster lurking in the closet and he is going to eat me. Daddy told me that monsters like to eat six year olds. There is a bang on the window and I jump as I look out. Outside there appears to be a huge claw. I scream and I jump out of my bed and hide underneath. The wood floor feels scratchy to my face and I can feel the tremors take over my body. I can't stop them. They happen to me all the time. My doctor calls them panic attacks. After the tremors, I always forget to breathe. The first time I went to school, I was so scared that a monster was going to come that I fainted.

I hear my door open forcefully and collide with the wall. Heavy footsteps echo and vibrate under my cheeks. I feel tears come and someone is screaming. I realize it is me. I jump out of my skin when I feel large hands grab me. I claw at them and I only stop when I hear the familiar sound of my dad telling me it is okay. There are no monsters. My dad forces me into a fetal position and he makes me breathe slowly. My mom must have entered my room too because I feel a smaller and gentler hand rubbing my back. I hear her familiar lullaby.

I fall asleep with my parents lying on my small bed holding me, and I wake to the smell of pancakes. I clamber off the bed and run down the stairs to the kitchen, my small feet tripping down the last step and stubbing my toe. I yelp out and I feel tears prick my eyes. My dad is in front of me kneeling in a second in his uniform. He is a police officer and I know that he will always protect me. He effortlessly picks me up and sets me on the counter. I start to look at my toe, but he grabs my chin and forces me to look up. There must be blood. I always faint.

"Wait till I get a bandaid, okay Princess?" I nod frantically and pinch my nose. I hate the smell and everything.

My mommy is giggling as she flips a pancake. I glare at her. She tries to hold back her laughter.

"I am sorry, honey. It's just that you are just so darn clum-" My glare must be frightening because she finishes with "cute." instead.

"Nice save, Renee." My dad teases. I feel the familiar pressure of a bandaid and I look down to see Woody from Toy Story smiling at me. I smile back.

"Thank you very little, Daddy."

My dad laughs as he picks me up and kisses my nose. I wrinkle it because his mustache tickles.

"Now why don't we eat some pancakes, Bells?"

After breakfast, I get ready for the day. I wear my favorite blue shirt and my favorite jeans. I grab my backpack, and I make sure to grab my stuffed bear. He protects me from the monsters when I am at school. We drive to school in my mom's truck. It breathes loudly like I do when I have panic attacks. It is always having panic attacks and I try to calm him down but it never works. Poor truck.

I am in the first grade this year, and I love my class. My teacher is amazing. Her name is Mrs. Webber. Her daughter is my best friend. Angela is the only one that understands me. We both like to read, even though she likes to read smaller books instead of books like _Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, _or_ Pride and Prejudice_. I already know what I want to be when I grow up, I want to be an author and a mother. And maybe my books will be made into movies and I will be super rich, at least that's what daddy hopes when I tell him I want to write books. He rather that I would be a lawyer or a doctor.

Mrs. Webber is standing by the door when I arrive at my class. She kisses both of my cheeks and I feel my cheeks blush. I quickly wipe away her kisses. I hate when people kiss me. Makes me sneeze.

"Bless you, Isabella." Mrs. Webber smiles gently at me.

I crinkle my nose and quietly say my thanks. I quickly run into the class. It's already full and loud. Everyone is yelling something at each other. I have no idea why everyone speaks so loudly. Mike has a cold again and green boogers are everywhere. I am so excited for Christmas Break in two weeks. I love first grade, but it's so loud. Lunch will be fun because I have the same lunch period as Angela.

Momma says that the older we get, the fast time seems to go. I know it's all perception and stuff, but I wish time flew by for me. School is so boring, especially when you feel like you know all the stuff. I answer questions and I get chocolate, which always makes it better, but I just wonder when it will get challenging.

It's recess time. I am standing outside all by myself looking at the kids play. Boys and girls are playing on the play ground. The screeching noise of swings make my head hurt. The sun seems to burn my skin and someone falls and starts to cry. A red ball flies towards me and I move out of the way. It rolls a little until it stops.

"Hey! Ugly Duckling! Go get the ball!"

Tyler, a fifth grader, is always so mean to me. Really, everyone except for Angela is mean to me. I wish Angela had the recess period as me.

I look at the ball, and I don't really feel like grabbing it.

"Come on you wuss! Grab the ball!"

I see Tyler start to come over and my breath feels a little smaller, I feel as if I am about to faint. I quickly grab the ball and it feels weird in my sweaty hands. I have to throw it towards them. I don't want to throw the ball, if I throw it, it won't reach them. I can't swallow and tears start to prick my eyes. I begin to shake my head over and over. I cannot believe I am having a panic attack.

"Why are you crying, stupid? Just throw the ball!"

Tyler's voice is right next to me, but I can't see anything.

"What a freak!" I hear someone else say. And then everyone else joins in. I am surrounded by a circle of hate.

"Throw the ball, Ugly!"

"Ever hear of a hairbrush?"

"God, look how high her pants are!"

"I hope she pukes like last time."

All of the sudden, the teasing stops and the kids look behind my with frightful eyes, as if they were caught doing something naughty. They run away and I am still clutching the ball and breathing like my mom's truck. I am shaking.

Hands, big hands, reach and take the ball gently from me. Hands are pushing me to a familiar fetal position. I hear a voice tell me to breath in and out, a large hand, bigger than my dad's, is rubbing me back. I do what the stranger says and I calm down. I slowly lift my head and I am startled to see green eyes looking at me.

Mommy always calls Aragorn from _Lord of the Rings_ very handsome, and I never really quite understood what she was talking about, but now I get it. The man in front of me has to be the most handsome man I have ever seen. I feel my cheeks begin to blush.

"Are you alright?"

His voice is very deep. I nod, not sure exactly why I can't talk. He smiles, his teeth are white and the smile is kinda crooked. He stands up and I have to strain my neck to look at him. He is really tall.

He begins to walk away and my being seems to come back to me.

"Wait!" I huff and I start to walk after him. The man pauses and he turns to look at me. He is still smiling and my heart begins to putter really fast, but in a nice way, not like my panic attack way. When I get right next to him I ask:

"Why did you help me?"

The man seems to think about it for a second, but I am pretty sure he already knows the answer.

"You looked like you needed a little help," was all he said.

I think about it, and I suppose I did. But no one ever helps me. I tell the man so. The man asks why.

"Because I am a freak."

The man raises a brow.

"You don't look very freaky to me."

I cross my arms and stomp my feet. I think I am pouting too. His eyes seem to crinkle as he looks at my in amusement.

"Look at me," I say as if it explained why I was a freak. I knew what I looked like, and I knew I wasn't as pretty as most girls.

The man bends down again and looks me up and down. He taps his chin playfully and finally shakes his head.

"I see a very pretty little girl."

My mouth falls open in shock and I start to giggle.

"Don't be silly, I am not pretty at all!"

"You are right," the man says and I feel a little hurt, "You are a beautiful little girl that is smarter than all the other kids out there. Who is just scared and shy."

I feel a little exposed, like the time when daddy forgot to knock on the door when I was going number. This man didn't even know me and he seemed to really see me. I look down at my feet and I feel a blush coming.

"I think you are pretty too," my whisper is soft and shy. I don't look up but I imagine the man is smiling because his voice sounds like it is when he says his thanks. All too soon the bell rings and I have to leave. Mrs. Webber is calling for her class to join her on the cement and I turn away. For some reason I don't look back at the nice man with green eyes. I am kinda scared that I imagined him.

My mom picks me up at the end of the day. I am quiet when I enter the car, and she seems to notice because we stop at the store. I notice that she has paint all in her hair and face. She is an artist and daddy says she is well known for her art. She paints lots of things, but lately she has been painting a lot of portraits and stuff of me. I don't know why. My mommy is beautiful. She is younger looking then most moms. She has tan skin that has freckles and blueish eyes. Her hair is a pretty honey brown. I look more like daddy: pale skin, brown hair, and poo eyes.

We are walking down the aisles and I see that she is getting stuff for pasta. I feel a little smile come on my face and I get excited.

"Can we get some garlic bread?"

My mom looks down at me and smiles.

"Of course we can."

We get home and Mom starts to cook the pasta. I go and put my school stuff in my room. I decide I want to see what Mommy is painting, so I go to her art room. Our house is filled with her art, mostly of me and Daddy. Some with all three of us. But there are also landscapes and still art. Strangers or past friends. I like the one of Grandma Higginbotham. I never met her, but Mommy's paintings make her seem like she was really nice. I immediately spot the one she is now painting. It's of me. But it isn't the normal ones were I look happy or I am outside, or I am reading. It's me with my eyes open wide and dilated. It's me looking lost and confused. I am in a familiar position and in my pajamas. And my dad's hand, which isn't painted yet, is on my back. It's weird to look at myself like that, so I walk out and I feel sad again.

I sit on a stool and I watch Mommy cook. She talks about her day. Mrs. Fletcher, our neighbor, had quite the fright. Mrs. Fletcher claimed she saw a handsome man just looking at our houses for some reason. He was young and she couldn't really make him out from her window. Momma apparently saw him too but paid him no mind.

"What do you think he wanted?" I ask as I help Mommy grate the cheese. We love cheese.

"He was probably someone from out of town looking at houses."

Mommy reaches over and tries to get some pieces of cheese to eat. I swot her hand away. We giggle. I hear the door open and hear my dad's greeting. I launch out of the chair, cheese momentarily forgotten. Daddy is hanging his jacket up when I hug him around his knees. I missed him so much.

"Rough day, kid? I smell pasta."

"Yes," I say but my voice is muffled because he has picked me up and my face is pressed against his chest. He smells like lemons. Daddy always uses girl soap.

"Want to talk about?"

I shake my head. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to mention how boring class is, or my panic attack, or the handsome man. I don't want to think of the painting or how I wish I was prettier. I just want to hug my daddy.

Since it was such a rough day, after dinner Daddy pulls out his guitar and Mommy grabs her small electric keyboard. After I am snuggled in bed, they sing to me. That's how they met, singing. Mommy says I have a voice of an angel, but I hate singing in front of people. I get too nervous. They sing to me until I am fast asleep. I have weird dreams, as if I am sort of awake. I dream of yelling and screaming. I dream of crashing and I am awoken by crying. This time it isn't me that is crying. It's my mom. She sounds like she is down stairs. I hear a man's voice but it doesn't sound like my daddy's. I feel a familiar fear and I feel like I am going to faint.

I grab my stuffed bear and I breathe into him. I hear Mommy yell again. I start to cry and my breathing picks up. I want to hide under my blankets, but I have to see if Mommy is okay. Why isn't Daddy protecting her?

I crawl out of my bed and I feel like my legs are shaking the whole entire room. I wobble and I clutch my bear tighter. I crawl down the stairs on my hands and knees because I am so scared of falling and tripping. Darkness is surrounding the edges of my eyes. The closer I get to the living room, the louder my mom sounds. I also hear that the TV is on. Sports recaps. Daddy loves staying up late to watch those.

The living room comes into view and I am still crawling. The first thing I see is my Daddy's face. He is lying on the ground and his eyes are wide open. He isn't moving. The next thing I notice is Mommy in a chair and she has blood all over her. She is staring frantically up at a man whose back is turned towards me. He hits her across the face. This time she does not scream, but her head is turned towards me and her eyes widen with fear. The man seems to notice and he turns around.

His face is covered with some sort of mask, but I see his eyes. It's hard to tell the color of them because they are shaded, but they appear to be green.

He stares at me but turns away from me when Mommy starts to beg me to go back upstairs. The man turns around and yells at her to shut up.

My breathing is becoming frantic and I know I am going to faint. I wish Daddy would wake up.

"Please! Don't touch her!"

Two strong hands grab me and I pulled from the ground. I scream and I claw, my teddy bear drops to the ground.

A hand is pressed against my mouth, drowning out my screams.

"You bastard! Let her go! Please!"

His eyes are mean yet the same time they are soft as they look at me.

"Such a pretty daughter you have, Mrs. Swan. I see why she is your muse."

"Please," my mother sobs. She is straining against the bonds and the chair she is in. "Please let me sing her a song. It calms her.

The man looks back at my mommy, he is still holding me. I am breathing and crying so loud, I am surprised that Daddy hasn't woken up yet.

"Fine," the man says. And he grabs another chair and places me on his lap. My mom chokes back tears. "Sing your song."

My mom's voice isn't as pretty as it usually is. It's sad and does not help me to feel better. It doesn't help either that the man is rubbing my back. I don't want to be in his lap. I don't want him to touch me. Mommy's song ends to soon and she is speaking to me,

"Isabella. I want you to go to your room and stay there. Okay, sweety?"

"Yes, Mommy," I choke out. It hurts to speak.

I am placed on the ground. I slowly turn to leave but I am stopped.

"Don't I get a goodnight hug, Isabella?"

I feel a horrible shiver down my spine. I shake my head. A rough hand grabs my arm and I scream out.

"Isabella! Do what he says!" Mommy pleads.

I don't want to hug him, but I do. He feels different then Daddy. He is stronger and doesn't comfort me.

It feels like a dream when I go back to my room. I hide under my bed. The wood floor feels scratchy to my face and I can feel the tremors take over my body. This time no Daddy or Mommy comes to save me from the monsters. The monster got them this time.

I close my eyes and I let out a little scream when I hear what sounds like a gun shot. Mommy doesn't cry anymore. I hear footsteps on the stairs and I push my self closer to wall. My door opens slowly and the light is turned on. I clench my eyes shut tighter. I am to the point where I am paralyzed with fear and I don't react at all when a hand grabs my leg and I am scraped against the wood floor. I don't open my eyes to see the man as he lifts me up and places me into my bed. He tucks me in. I shiver only a little as he wipes some tears from my cheeks and starts to hum. He hums the same song Mommy sings to me. And I don't react when the song ends and he kisses my forehead.

I hear my door shut and I remain where he left me. Mommy told me to stay in my room.

I don't know how long it is until I hear the sirens. I hear footsteps and I hear shocked speaking and horrified gasps. This time I scream as loud as I can when the door to my room is opened and flash lights are pointed towards me.

Police officers rush towards me and lift me from my bed.

"Mommy says I can't leave me room!" I beg for them to put me back. I need to go back. We are going down the stairs and I see something on the wall. The police officer that is carrying me tries to cover my eyes. I see my mother with her eyes open looking towards the ceiling but blood coming out of her head. I know she sees nothing just like Daddy on the floor. But what scares me and haunts me the most is the words that are written in blood:

_"I'll be back for her."_

**How did y'all like it? Let me know with a review and I will reply with a sneak peak of the next chapter! Also follow me on facebook, the name is Withthisdagger Fanfic and on tumblr: .c0m. My Icon is a kitty! **


	2. Chapter 2: The Incomplete Letter

**Sorry it took so long for the update. This chapter is really short. I had this whole entire chapter written but it didn't feel right with the story. Next chapter will be much longer (and already written:))**

Chapter 2: The Incomplete Letter

_I don't know who is going to read this. I don't know if anyone will read this, but I am being followed. If someone does find this letter, it will probably be with my body. My name is Isabella Swan and I think I am going to di-_

**Is Bella dead? Review to find out:) And get a preview of the next chapter- Chapter 3: The Body**

**Update will be soon!**

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